Scripture Reflection, October 21: “I lift up my eyes to the mountains”

Scripture Readings:
Exodus 17: 8-13
Psalm 121
2 Timothy 3:14-4:2
Luke 18: 1-8

Recently there has been a lot written and said in the media about the spiritual struggles of Mother Teresa of Calcutta. A compilation of her letters reveals that for a number of years she did not feel God’s presence and had to cling tenaciously to her faith. This inner struggle was taking place while she was engaged in energetic and selfless outreach to the poorest of the poor in our world. In some of the articles written about her, Mother Teresa has been compared to Saint Paul of the Cross, the founder of the Passionist community, the religious community to which I belong. Experts in spirituality have pointed out that the journey of faith that Mother Teresa experienced had similarities to that undertaken by other holy men and women, including Paul of the Cross.

This Saturday (October 20), the Church celebrates the feast of Paul of the Cross. He was an Italian priest, preacher and mystic of the 18th century. He devoted much of his life and ministry to helping people learn how to pray. Early in his vocation, while he was still in his twenties, he had several powerful experiences of God’s closeness in his life. He experienced the palpable presence of God and heard God’s call to proclaim the Gospel and to found a religious community dedicated to keeping the memory of Jesus’ passion. But for many years after this initial period, Paul of the Cross, like Mother Teresa, found it difficult to feel God’s presence in his life. He experienced desert periods, when his prayer and devotion did not feel as comforting or reassuring as it had earlier. But Paul of the Cross stayed with it. He remained faithful to his prayer and to his vocation. He maintained his communication with God even in times when God seemed distant.

Toward the end of his life, Paul once again experienced the power of God’s presence. The story is told that when he was aged and sick, living in the Passionist house in Rome (which is still there, near the Roman Coliseum), Brother Bartholomew took care of him and would walk with Paul in the garden. Every now and then, Paul would tap the flowers with his cane. Bartholomew could not figure out why Paul would do such a thing, and finally curiosity got the best of him. He said, “Father Paul, why do you tap the flowers with your cane?” Paul of the Cross answered, “I have to do that, Bartholomew, to tell the flowers to be quiet. They speak to me too loudly of God.”

Paul once again knew the presence and indomitable love of God, in an even deeper way at this point in his life. He had kept up his communication with God even through the dry spells, and that enduring conversation had led to a stronger, more mature friendship with God that became evident to others.

The Gospel passage for this Sunday could leave us a bit perplexed. Jesus tells a story about a city judge who is cold and corrupt. He is far from a model of justice, neither fearing God nor respecting any human being. Nevertheless, he cannot withstand the relentless pleadings of a widow in the town, who persists in demanding a just decision. She wears him down until he finally renders a just decision in her favor in order to get her out of his hair. We might come away from this Gospel parable with an idea of God as one who is aloof from us and our concerns. Or we could internalize an image of God as one who is constantly testing us to see how much we can take. At certain moments in our lives, especially when God seems distant, it is tempting to view our relationship with God in that way. We can think of God as too preoccupied with more important matters to hear our paltry prayers. Or we can view God as one who is continually testing us in order to find out whether we will pray hard enough or find the precise formula for prayer that will win his favor.

Actually, however, Jesus is making a striking contrast in this Gospel parable. He is contrasting this unjust and uncaring judge with the God whom he reveals as a loving Father. Through this story, Jesus is saying that if even such a hard-hearted human authority can be convinced by the pleadings of a person in need, a person with no rank or power, how much more will God listen to us. How much more attentive and concerned is the God who in Jesus is faithful to his promises. How much more confidence can we have that God will hear us, support us, uphold us.

In our important relationships with other people, we experience periods of warmth and closeness, as well as dry spells and times of distance. We know from experience, however, that if a relationship is going to deepen and mature, we have to keep the lines of communication open. We need to make the effort to speak and to listen, to share our lives with that other person through good times and bad. And it is in making this effort that our relationship grows into something more mature and enduring than it was in the beginning. Something analogous is true in our relationship with God. Whether we are feeling devout or spiritually cold, it is by making the commitment to pray regularly (both personal prayer and prayer with the Church) that our relationship with God grows and deepens. That relationship matures as we bring ourselves before God on a daily basis, as honestly and openly as we are able. You and I are invited to make our lives an ongoing conversation with God. We can do that knowing all the while that even the desire to pray is itself God’s gift; it is already a sign of God’s presence and grace working within us.

This Sunday we will pray Psalm 121 in response to the first reading. I have always found it one of the most beautiful passages in the Scriptures, and it has sustained me through the years. This psalm reinforces what Jesus says in the Gospel. It is a profound expression of trust in God in a time of struggle. “I lift up my eyes to the mountains, whence shall help come to me? My help is from the Lord who made heaven and earth.” The psalmist goes on to speak of the Lord who guards us, the Lord who neither slumbers nor sleeps. The God in whom we believe, the God of Jesus Christ, is a God who has incurable insomnia. He just cannot seem to get any sleep, no matter how hard he tries. He is always there, always listening to us, always concerned about us, even when it is difficult for us to feel his presence. As we come to the table of the Lord this Sunday, let us ask for the grace to stay close to God, to make our lives an ongoing conversation with the God who never sleeps.

Robin Ryan, CP